


all the broken glass sparkling

by starfleetbanana



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Character Study, Eating Disorders, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfleetbanana/pseuds/starfleetbanana
Summary: Being in love with Paul meant more than having to listen to endless rants of how Straal wasn’t taking things as seriously as he was, getting to kiss him goodnight and making him blush on purpose. It meant loving everything he had to offer and there was so much to Paul Stamets besides his interest in astromycology.In which Paul Stamets has an eating disorder.





	all the broken glass sparkling

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I just have to write an eating disorder AU for everything, hopefully I'll make this into a not quite angsty series in the future. Potential trigger warning because the author likes the project onto their faves.

Hugh’s priority had always been his professional career. He had set his heart on becoming a CMO as soon as possible and he’d worry about his personal life later. Nevertheless, unexpected things usually came up when you lived among the starts. Years after that encounter in Alpha Centauri he still wasn’t a CMO, but he’d found someone that made him realise having his name on the Federation records was useless if he wasn’t truly in love with his work. Being just another Starfleet doctor was alright, even though the crew insisted on making jokes about how Dr. Culber spent more time working than the actual CMO. 

For the sake of his carefully planned future, Hugh had never believed in love at first sight ━ but maybe it had more to do with never having given love itself much of a thought. He cared more about his patients than about being lonely, still, the first time he’d looked almost teasingly into those dark blue eyes he’d known that was it, he was fucked. 

Paul had looked incredibly annoyed at how “ _ noisy and disrespectful of the people surrounding him in a public space”  _ Hugh was being with his incomprehensible liking for Kasselian opera. It had been a bit of a rude comment to make but he had an absolute right to do so, considering he was trying his best to focus on the voice at the other end of his comm. 

Although the blond’s irritation was evident, instead of feeling insulted by the tone of his voice, Hugh sat on the chair next to his. He’d already finished his own cup of coffee and had left half a slice of rhubarb pie untouched on his table. Paul, however, had been at the café longer than Hugh, and he’d barely touched his drink. Actually, he didn’t even seem interested in coffee at all. Hugh could tell he just needed a table and a quiet place by the amount of PADDs that were before him. Hugh didn’t think anything of it, he just told himself offering him a cup of coffee wouldn’t be a good conversation starter.

It had taken no other than a look for Hugh’s entire to shift, even though all that look communicated was that Paul felt almost offended by Hugh not listening to his request. He wanted to be left alone, but damn his entire career as a doctor if Hugh’d let him go. He hadn’t left his side since.

He fell hard and for the first time in his life he didn’t need a plan to keep going. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d never listened to his instincts before, or if it was because there was something in the intricate connections of the fabric of space-time that made him feel like he’d found his place by a stranger’s side.

According to Hugh, Paul was exceptionally pretty ━ Hugh loved his smile ━,  and had a great personality that not everyone had the chance to get to know. He had a big mouth, he was amazingly brilliant and he showed a kind of self discipline that surprised Hugh. He was in love with his work and Hugh was sure being an astromycologist wasn’t an easy thing to do when literally no one made an effort to understand your job. 

Being in love with Paul meant more than having to listen to endless rants of how Straal wasn’t taking things as seriously as he was, getting to kiss him goodnight and making him blush on purpose. It meant loving everything he had to offer and there was so much to Paul Stamets besides his  _ interest  _ in astromycology, rendered obvious the first time they’d met by the amount of information on fungi he was scrolling through in the PADD he was holding. 

It was true that Paul never shut up about his interests or his own work, but he also listened intently to Hugh’s ramblings about his own projects and aspirations. In contrast, he was quiet about his illness and he liked to keep it that way, althought that didn’t mean he tried to hide it from Hugh.

Paul Stamets  _ always  _ weighed his food. It was distressing to see, really, because it was so hard to get it to an exact number. He couldn’t round it up and it made him grumpy to have to cut everything into little pieces to make sure the quantity was exact. Hugh never questioned it, he just learnt to accept it, because the first time Paul had done it in front of him he’d blushed and taken more than an hour to be able to look at him again. 

“It’s embarrassing” He’d whispered and shrugged before turning around. 

It made it harder for Hugh to come up with date ideas because Paul never had a great time around food. He was okay with drinking coffee, but it made Hugh uncomfortable to even think of eating knowing Paul couldn’t  _ let himself  _ eat because of his strict rules. If he couldn’t weigh his food he absolutely couldn’t eat and Hugh wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of Paul losing his mind over how many bites he was having. 

“It’s okay” He’d answered back then, without even knowing how much having Hugh’s understanding mattered to him. 

Paul didn’t have an issue with his body or his appearance. It was more about control. He’d lost all sense of self working on his research during his cadet years and regaining his life back had been incredibly challenging. Evidently, it still was. Paul wasn’t very good at taking care of himself. He’d dissociated from his body to the point where he’d ignored any physical needs until his body had collapsed and then he’d realised his work meant nothing if he was dead. 

“I’m alright now, I’m at a healthy weight” He sighed, always avoiding Hugh’s worried look. He  _ was  _ taking care of himself, he  _ was  _ making sure he was functional, but for his dear doctor that wasn’t enough.

“But you’re not eating”

“Oh, but I am” Paul retorted. He hated when people reminded him that he was, in fact, eating. It was as if having physical needs was nothing but a burden to him. Feeling hunger wasn’t a very Paul Stamets thing to do, he thought, but that didn’t stop him from feeling just that and insulting the replicator when it wasn’t exact enough in return. “It’s under control”

“Is it?” Hugh asked crossing his arms over his chest. Paul kept his eyes on his food. 

“Yes, I know what I’m doing this time, there’s no need to doctor me” He answered with a frown. 

Hugh didn’t exactly believe it was under control. Paul couldn’t sleep if he didn’t know what he was going to eat the next day. It was obvious that he had everything memorised because of how focused he looked as he made a memo on his PADD, probably calculating everything in his head even though the computer could do it for him. He said he didn’t trust it, that was why he weighed his own food. He didn’t trust the replicator. 

He also wasted an impressive amount of time making sure he got the right percentages of fat, carbs and proteins in his food. That was the hard part for Paul, and the thing Hugh couldn’t help but worry about because, as a doctor, he saw it as cheating. 

Paul was by no means unaware of how unhealthy his obsessive behaviour around food was but it was the only thing that kept him from losing his damn mind. Everything else was too hectic, too excessive, controlled by people who didn’t listen to him. 

His habits didn’t annoy Hugh, they were more like a constant reminder for him to pay attention, but how on earth could Hugh ever take his eyes off of him? 

From Hugh’s point of view, it didn’t make sense ━not that it did from Paul’s, anyway. Paul was a workaholic, always trying to better himself and to examine his surroundings carefully, always analysing the situation objectively, always talking too fast and having too many thoughts at once, but when it came to food it was as if he was finally letting himself take a breath, albeit borderline nightmarish. His thoughts came to a stop, he was calm and suddenly things slowed down. He acted almost afraid to make his presence known. It was heartbreaking to see someone so unstoppable become an anxious mess in a matter of seconds. 

Meals were silent. Paul absolutely hated being distracted from the intensity of physical sensations and emotions eating brought to him. He always took his uniform jacket off and urged Hugh to do the same because though he hated distractions seeing Hugh’s arms was a different kind of distraction he welcomed happily. 

Hugh’s presence reassured him even when he knew he was kind of a burden because Paul could only eat during Hugh’s breaks every day. He wasn’t allowed to stop working, but Hugh always comm’d him to remind him to eat and though it had never been about attention or feeling unloved, it helped motivate him to obsess a little less and feel a little more brave having lunch in the Mess Hall feeling like everyone was staring at him. 

Paul had a myriad of rules regarding food and control, however, there was one that he never discussed with anyone because it was the only thing that kept him going. He didn’t eat meat, he didn’t like high-carb foods, he never lost control, he had to keep his logs updated, he had to get checked every few months, he had to make sure his body was fine, he didn’t like eating after nine, he absolutely hated eating unsupervised, he didn’t save all of his calories for one meal because he hated making the situation even more distressing, but rule number one was don’t let it get to you, don’t let it kill you. He’d been fighting for too long for his research to mean nothing, for everything he’d given Hugh to mean nothing.

The humming and the beeping of the machines in the medbay was annoying. Hugh’s concerned look annoyed him as well, more than not being trusted despite his honesty did. He rolled his eyes.

“It is under control, Hugh”    

 

**Author's Note:**

> is it though lol. find me @scfiaboutellc on twitter. feedback's appreciated (though I know this isn't much)


End file.
